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Literature Text
You remember the days, when we smiled
Once upon a time, where we’d go so far
Untamed passion, bereft of boundaries
Supposedly, it was love
Everyone said so anyway
Every day, every night, the thought of you on my mind
Messages from you kept me alive
Even when all I could think of was when will I die?
Fuck it all, can it not just end?
Amidst the misery and self-loathing you kept me afloat
Love me (so suddenly), for I love you
Love me, I swear it’ll be true
Always, I’ll love you
Patronize me not, this loyalty is not bought
And to think what I felt
Reflected an inner desire, but no, it was just another nightmare
Tell me, do the pictures on the wall move to my despair? Or
Are they alive because of your glee?
Never would I believe you’d make such a fool of me
Definite was the schism, all of it shattering to pieces ,
Love not lost, desperation for separation, draw this poison from my heart
Arrange not a funeral, or a mourning
Unlike you, I take no joy in this
Give me the respect I deserve, I’ve earned, though I now see
However, that you can’t...
Once upon a time, where we’d go so far
Untamed passion, bereft of boundaries
Supposedly, it was love
Everyone said so anyway
Every day, every night, the thought of you on my mind
Messages from you kept me alive
Even when all I could think of was when will I die?
Fuck it all, can it not just end?
Amidst the misery and self-loathing you kept me afloat
Love me (so suddenly), for I love you
Love me, I swear it’ll be true
Always, I’ll love you
Patronize me not, this loyalty is not bought
And to think what I felt
Reflected an inner desire, but no, it was just another nightmare
Tell me, do the pictures on the wall move to my despair? Or
Are they alive because of your glee?
Never would I believe you’d make such a fool of me
Definite was the schism, all of it shattering to pieces ,
Love not lost, desperation for separation, draw this poison from my heart
Arrange not a funeral, or a mourning
Unlike you, I take no joy in this
Give me the respect I deserve, I’ve earned, though I now see
However, that you can’t...
Literature
cycle.
(birth.)
i walk home, crisp shoelaces, bloodied nose
middle of autumn, frothing at the mouth
kids took summer skin too far, brought on apocalypse
i tell myself it will be over soon, wintertime freckles
will be here
incensed
(childhood.)
stove milk and delicate murmurs
the technicolor alphabet teaches itself
purple bowls with animal faces
hospital bracelets around tiny wrists
won’t come loose
mama
(adolescence.)
the clouds are gasoline, wisps of gin, addicted
there is vomit on the floor, new candy sores
sky is burning, orange with hungry flame, vying
i don’t know who to talk to, crying
let me go
alive
(adulthood.)
doctor
Literature
Somnium
I hadn't slept for three days. I could hear colours; blues whispered in my ears, tales of melancholy. I sat curled in that red walled room as the moon watched in; his eye golden, round, like low hung fruit. It felt so easy to reach, to pluck out of the sky shards of dew, to hold my hands up against the warming sun, to drink that milky inner city fog and to pretend pretend that I could dream in four dimensions.
Literature
Angstxiety
I am work weak on Wednesday
in a heap of hangover and hesitation
with fingers on a phone haptically
actively anticipating feedback—
I need that why do I need that.
My angst and anxiety
is constant and courses
and throbs with a pulse
that demands concern
of a baby boomer crooning poetic
in the distance to call me antisocial, or you know,
you could just call me.
If being this busy in an age
of constant communication
feels like having slept
but not feeling rested,
I'd rather cancel my plans
like a responsible millennial
and go to bed.
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Wonderfully done, I feel like crying. 